Angels and Demons
by blackvelvet97
Summary: "Days, weeks, months. It all blurs together in one boring haze of idiots and whips. My screams are ignored, but trust me, I notice them, the men that come. I memorised them my angel, and they will whimper before me." OC tale, tortured Moriarty, romantic Mycroft. Rated T for violence, bad language and torture.
1. Madness

_"Days, weeks, months. It all blurs together in one boring haze of idiots and whips. My screams are ignored, but trust me, I notice them, the men that come. I memorised them my angel, and they will whimper before me."_

_The man in chains cackles but there is no joy. He is worn down, grime, blood and sweat cover his skin, darkening it to a grey crusty covering for his bones. He is jaunt and skinny, even when they force the tube down his nose he manages to throw it up over himself. His skin is torn around the mouth from various failed efforts to elongate his existance, he simply stops breathing if they push the oxegyen mask to his face, he tears the drip from his arm if they dare try insert it, ripping his veins. They will not sedate him, they need answers and the unconscious cannot talk, however nor do the dead._

_She was appalled when she was first enlisted to the cause. A black sedan had pulled up outside her practice and a man had told her to get in. Mycroft Holmes. They would later become good friends but at that moment he had appeared terrifying. He had a unique job oppurtunity for her. Why the British Government needed a therapist was a mystery, but she had very little experience and very little money and so had accepted._

_Mr Holmes had brought her to an abandoned warehouse, and chained to a chair in the dark was a madman. There were armed men guarding every door, clad in black, their guns never wavered from the centre of the room, never for a split second did they take their attention from him. She had not understood until he began to chatter. The man did not speak, he screeched, the sound was inhumane in its pain. None of the guards even blinked, they had heard worse in the time he had been there._

_The dirty man locked eyes with her and whimpered._

_He rocked against his chains, violent movements that drew blood on his chaffed wrists and ankles. He would cry out, wordlessly pleading, then suddenly laugh. It was a cruel, cold snort, followed by screaming. He jerked in the cheap plastic chair and began to froth at the mouth, blood swelled from his bruised throat and streamed over his purple lips. Mycroft motioned to a nearby guard who promptly strolled forward. He grinned at her as the man yanked open his mouth and produced a jaw clamp that kept it open. He screamed and the guard swiftly smacked the side of his face, the palm of his hand connecting with a sickening crunch. The room fell into vigilant silence again as the guard resumed his position._

_She had wrenched her gaze from the forlorn man subjected to such cruelty and turned to the ever proper Mycroft Holmes. He had patted her shoulder in an offhand gesture and in five words he gave her the assignment._

_"You need to fix him."_

_After that she had left the room and thrown up the contents of her stomach. Two days later she had requested a car pick her up and take her to do her job. She had vowed to help him._

_Here she was, in the dank warehouse crouching opposite him, waiting. He stunk, having been left in his own faeces and urine for god knows how long. His hair was long and matted, a beard and moustache stuck to his broken face. His eyes were wide as he laughed in her face, he spat at her, called her every insulting derogatory statement to do with women or simply screamed at her. Her training did little to help so she went on gut instinct. _

_She couldn't get too close as he tried the head butt her, his restrained arms bent into wicked shapes and his fingernails scraped the plastic of the chair, reaching for her. Who was he? More importantly why had they done this to him? It was disgusting, she had never been much of a believer in the good of humanity but surely such open torture was beyond normal human comprehension. Then again Mr Holmes did seem rather detached. She sat back on her heels and crossed her legs, waiting._

_Eventually he ran out of energy to scream, or to rattle his chains, or to cry. He just sat and stared at her, like she was water in a desert. She waited for him to realise she would not hurt him. He just stared. In his stillness she catalogued his injuries, extensive bruising to all visible skin, deep ligature marks to wrists and ankles, severe burn just above left eye, deep cuts to collar bone. Pools of dried blood had seeped through the front of his black overalls, she couldn't work out what had caused it from the sporadic patterns of red. He continued staring at her._

_She would help him, and she would find out who he was._

_"What's your name?" She tried sounding cheerful but it came out as a small whisper. For a rare moment he looked as though he would speak. Then he threw his head back and laughed, he laughed and spat at her until he went hoarse. She wiped the spit from her eyes and stood up._

_She would try again tomorrow. She turned from him and he began to thrash against his chains. He screamed louder as she left, just as she reached the door he stopped his wailing. She waited for one of the unnerving guards to open the door._

_He giggled hysterically and called to her._

_"You can call me Jimmy."_

Think I should continue?

Blackvelvet97

Xx


	2. Bosses, Mothers and Bodyguards

_**Present day**_

"You have got to be kidding me."

Mycroft simply raised one eyebrow, it was a wonder she even put up with him. They sat together in his private library discussing Moriarty and the terms of his treatment, it seemed that with every visit to report his progress there would be a new rule.

"It's very simple Miss Davidson, stay away from my younger brother and we shall continue to work together amicably." He smiled at her from across the desk and pushed forward a piece of paper. Lori shifted on her chair, if it was another re-drafted contract she would not be happy. Mycroft had a habit of speaking down to, she was used to that, but his incessant need to qualify everything into a category infuriated her. Yes, she was working for him, Okay, so he was a little funny when it came to family-this did not mean that every tiny change in their employment situation needed to be put down in writing. It was a waste of paper.

She fought the need to voice her opinions, he would simply ignore her, but she did let out a large sigh. Mycroft just waited, they had reached a stage of comfort with one another now that she didn't fear death every time she teased or ignored him. Lori let her gaze wander across the familiar surroundings, for a man who represented the whole of the British Government he seemed to absolutely loathe anything vaguely resembling the Union Jack. There was nothing in red or blue, it was all magnolia and leather. The large oak bookcases made the room seem massive and thoroughly unnerved her the first time they had met here.

_**"So Miss Davidson, you accept my proposal?" The man sat across from her on an impressive ornate wooden chair, it was probably an antique. Everything about him suggested importance; an impeccable suit, not a crinkle in sight; a chauffeur driven car service, a large building he clearly owned in the centre of London. He sat at the head of a large desk, nothing cluttered it, no papers, no pens, it was simply there to look official and imposing. She gulped and nodded.**_

_**"Very good, you will arrive here tomorrow at 7am sharp. We will begin then."**_

_**He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to speak against it. She clenched her fists into tight balls. Why did she feel like he owned her? He was just a man in a position of power, she had trained under one of the most influential men in her field so it wasn't the aura of superiority. His eyes swept across her face, reading her answer. She blushed under his intense stare and looked away from him. She didn't like Mycroft.**_

_**As her eyes glanced around his abode she noted a few things; the floor was a polished wood of some kind, it looked expensive; the walls were filled to the brim with leather-bound books collecting dust, they looked expensive; the furniture was artistically arranged across the room, leading the eye to his desk, again it all looked expensive. Lori decided she didn't like this room either. The secretary had called it his personal Library with an air of snootiness.**_

_**God, even the secretary disliked her. She clearly thought Lori wasn't worthy of Mycroft's time. Had Lori known how much trouble being good at her job would be, then perhaps she would have tried messing around a bit. Maybe then she wouldn't have got stuck playing babysitter to a lunatic.**_

_**Well she was pretty much stuck now, Mr Holmes was her only option. He cleared his throat with a smug nod of his head. Psychic?**_

_**"Yes that will be fine," Mycroft opened his mouth to say something that would probably make her feel small, she cut him off, "but can I just ask-who is he?" Mycroft Holmes didn't do awkward, it wasn't an emotion that fell into his category of work. But in that moment she swore he grimaced slightly. It was the first sign that maybe he wasn't robot. **_

_**"He is someone dangerous. That is all you need to know." She furrowed her brow slightly, the man in chains who had screamed at her didn't seem dangerous, unhinged definitely, broken maybe, pitiful yes, but not dangerous. **_

He tapped the paper with his finger and pushed it further across the desk. Lori slid it closer and inspected the information it held.

"Mycroft!?" She squeaked when she came across his little gift.

"Is something wrong?" He asked rather innocently for a man who had just bought her a flat in central London. She held the deed in her hands and looked at him shaking her head. Lori just about caught the small smirk he gave at her reaction before it was smothered by the usual irritating cold mask.

She held the deed in disbelief. Mycroft watched her with a not-quite-hidden glee. It was pointless to try and refuse his gifts, after the fiasco with the iphone she had learnt to just get the embarrassing thank you's out of the way and move on. But this was too much, she had to make it clear that he was not allowed to start showering her in gifts. I mean, come on, how the hell was she meant to repay him for an entire flat?

"Mycroft this is too far. I can't accept this." She pushed the paper back towards him and gave him her best serious face. His eyebrow jumped another inch and he sighed. Mycroft leant forward and grasped the her hand before it could slip back into her lap-an unprecedented action for the highly strung man. He rubbed it affectionately as she sat rigid in her chair. They were holding hands across his desk. She was holding hands with Mycroft Holmes.

Dear Lord.

"Lori dear, I thought you wanted to help Jim?" Jimmy, she mentally corrected. Lori wanted to help Jimmy. Once she finally met this Jim person she would leave, immediately. Jim was a murderer, a psychotic genius, a disgusting criminal who played with people's lives. Her patient was the complete opposite. Jimmy was a broken man who craved attention, he needed care. Jimmy couldn't feed himself, Jimmy cried as the men Mycroft employed beat him mercilessly, Jimmy lay writhing in chains in a damp warehouse day and night. He needed her protection. Lori never wanted to meet Jim, but if she got her wish then she had failed her job.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What does the man who you torture for fun have to do with this?" She sneered at him and he dropped her hand. The change was immediate, he shoved the walls back up and became the intolerable man whom had first cajoled her into a car two months ago. She internally cursed herself, they too had already gone through the motions when it came to her rage at Jimmy's maltreatment. Mycroft would simply shut down into the bastard shell of the British Government. This time was no different.

He straightened his suit and sat up straight in his chair, making himself as tall as possible, radiating confidence and arrogance. A few weeks ago she would have been a quivering wreck before him, having talked to Jimmy about various means of "encouragement" Mycroft had authorised Lori just wanted to smack him one.

"You will take the deed and keys to this flat Lori because I tell you to. I shall inform you out of courtesy this time, but your personal belongings have already been moved into your new home. This will happen every time I decide to move you." He spoke with sincerity, but it still came across as harsh and cool. He was extremely annoyed at her.

She rolled her eyes at him and tried very hard not to leap across the stupid, expensive desk to strangle him.

"Mycroft you have no right! My home is my home. I am just your employee, nothing more. Stop messing about with my life." He clenched his jaw as she mentioned their relationship, boss and employee, yeah right. Mycroft Holmes had a soft spot her and she knew it. It was why Lori trusted him so much, when dealing with criminals he would look after her; to a point where it would become irritating yeah, but even so, he meant well.

"Do you forget why your are here Mavis?" His voice was low and menacing. She stood up and began pacing the enormous room. She loathed it when people called her by her first name, a point she had made very clearly on the third progress review. He knew she hated it. He was just being an arse now. Lori distinctly remembered asking her foggy-minded mother why she had called her that, Mavis Loreen Davidson. She had called it a whim. That's all motherhood was to Maddy, a whimsical decision in her early twenties.

She turned on him, anger only slightly misdirected. "Just you shut-up Mr Holmes," he raised the blasted eyebrow again, "as I recall it was you who got me involved in this idiotic business- 'mending the criminals.' You turned up just after I finished the damned course! I chose to help those in the justice system, but you, you picked me! So just shut up." She was seething and the pitying look he was currently dishing out did nothing to help the cause. Lori paced faster and faster.

"Lori, stop." Mycroft Holmes did not own her. He wasn't allowed to move her things around without her consent. He just wasn't. The elder Holmes walked around the desk and forcibly stopped her walking. He gently cupped her cheek and sighed heavily. The secretary would be very jealous right now. As the thought passed through her head she almost smiled, almost.

Very slowly Mycroft inched forward and placed a small kiss on her forehead. She sighed, this was getting very stupid. Mycroft didn't normally do affection, and he most definitely did not do hugs. So he released Lori and turned away from her. She took it as a sign to leave.

She gathered her bags quietly. He would probably be thinking of other ways to save her from the evil grasp of all those who she gave therapy to. Or just save her in general. Mycroft didn't like mess and her death would be messy. Just maybe the man didn't want to lose one of his only true friends. This was his way of protection. Sometimes she really bloody hated her job. It lead to over analysis of everything and far too much empathy for others.

The deed was still on the table.

She looked over at him, his back was to her and his posture was utterly straight. Stressed.

Lori knew friends like Mycroft were hard to come by. She also knew if she didn't accept his 'help' he would most likely get her a bodyguard. She reached out and slipped the damned paper into her bag and crept out of the room.

"Thank you Lori." He turned to the door and smiled. She rolled her eyes for the third time in the short hour they had been together that day and smiled back. She walked out of the room and prepared to face the onslaught of Queen Cow-bag at the reception.

It would have to be a quick argument, she was meeting Jimmy at three.

Apologies for any spelling and grammar mistakes, I am without a beta reader right now. Do you like Lori? This story will swap between characters and flashbacks a lot so ye be warned.

Drop me a review my lovelies

Blackvelvet97

Xx


	3. Heartache

_**Hello! Wow, four followers in four days. I really quite chuffed with that.**_

_**Thank you to Becks93 for reviewing, it completely made my day. Here's another flashback chapter for you wonderful people.**_

_His piercing wail was more pitiful this time. Instead of anger and rage he screamed for mercy. He cried at her, seeming to have forgotten how to communicate with words. The plastic chair teetered as he rocked viciously back and forth. She winced at his blood soaked wrists and longed to reach out to comfort him. However, Mr Holmes had been utterly clear with her-under no circumstances was she to touch him. It seemed cruel to obey such a emotionless man, when before her shook the very pinnacle of torment. She could not even lend a hand to this weary soul?_

_The woman swallowed her tears and shifted on the concrete floor. It would do no good to become upset in front of the client. She was not the one in need of counselling. _

_She sat and waited, watching the cycle ._

_Today was a day of introduction, she had begun by sitting 5 metres away from the man. He had screamed, begged, moaned and laughed at her. They went through all possible states of mind in the broken man, each worse than the last. Eventually came despair. This was the one that made her want to sob. For him, it meant silence._

_After an appropriate amount of the quiet she would look to the nearest armed guard. He would nod and she would shuffle forward a single pace. Jimmy was completely thrown by the new position and began thrashing, crying against his bonds once more. It hurt her to see him so dead inside. What happened to the brilliant man who embedded fear into even the great Mycroft Holmes?_

_A dark haired woman had briefed her a few days ago, telling the chilling tale of murder and deceit without once looking up from her blackberry. It only made her more upset, were all of his company so heartless? She feared that Mr Holmes would infect her, that she too would become a walking robot. It must have taken so much to break such a twisted man. Being who she was and studying what she had studied, she could appreciate the genius it would take to organise such crimes. It sickened her to the bone but she did not fear the man before her. Moriarty, as they called him, was vacant._

_How the hell they had managed to break him eluded her. For the moment it was Mycroft who plagued her nightmares. The man had too much power and could easily silence a young therapist. She looked up to find Jimmy's brown eyes upon her. This was the closest she'd been all day, a mere two metres away. He had long ago fallen silent, but she had been lost too lost in her thoughts to notice. She could hear his unsteady breathing now. Rough rasps and sniffles. She looked at him and almost wept._

_His arms were exposed today, they had tried to force feed his body nutrients again. From the look of his torn skin, even when pinned down he had managed to rip the line from his flesh. Her eyes travelled up his body, there were fresh bruises each day. Some made sense; hand marks by the arm wounds from trying to shove the needle into his body, but others raised a passion in her. This evening, though in the dank warehouse night and day blurred, an ugly hand imprint lay on his left cheek. It could be nothing but a slap. She hated them for it. He was restrained and weak, yet the men continued to beat him. They still tortured him._

_She turned to the guards rigidly lined along the wall and stared each one down. The third man in the line tore his eyes from her and looked to the floor. He had been the one responsible for Jimmy's fresh wound. Her eyes displayed her rage and disgust. She felt the need to punish him. She wished to hit him over and over, to hurt him beyond repair, to burn him until there was nothing left to burn and then ask him how it felt. She wanted so badly to punch him, anywhere, everywhere, but all her work today would be ruined if she moved now._

_She turned back to Jimmy. He was watching the exchange between her and the guard with a odd look upon his face. The poor man always looked confused. She softened her gaze and smiled at him. Perhaps she had pushed him too far today. _

_"What are you?"_

_The words startled her. It was barely a whisper, but with it each gun in the room was primed. Stupid men, she thought. The woman thought about moving closer but she didn't want to break this moment. This had been the first time he had spoken since sharing his name._

_"I'm a friend Jimmy" she spoke softly and sincerely. The man smiled sadly, never looking away from her face. In that moment he seemed broken beyond repair and it made her heart ache._

_"I don't have friends." His eyes dulled and began to pool with water. _

_"Stuff Mycroft bloody Holmes and his freaking army of henchmen" she muttered under her breath and crept forward. Her knees scraped the ground as she scurried over to him. Jimmy froze but she didn't allow him time to react. Before anyone could pull her off, her hands were cupping the man's face and she had pressed a small kiss to his forehead. He tasted of sweat and blood. It was an unconventional means of gaining trust but this was an unconventional case._

_"We have a code BLUE Sir, I repeat code BLUE" one of the burly gunman squawked into a walkie talkie and ran at Lori. His footsteps echoed around the suddenly attentive room._

_She turned her head and yelled at the man. "Oh for God's sake stand down. I am a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions and I guarantee, if you try to touch me in any way shape or form I. Will. Hurt. You." He stopped dead in his tracks and pointed his gun at her. Jimmy trembled in her hands, she could feel his cold breath on her neck. He was scared. _

_"Up" the gruff voice commanded._

_She was having none of it. "Oh sod off, he's in my care and I will do what I like to look after him." She turned back to Jimmy, his eyes were wide with fear. She stroked her thumb along his jaw soothingly and whispered so no one else would hear them._

_"You have a friend now Jimmy. I'll make you better, I promise. Do you believe me?" She was going out on a limb here. Without his trust she would never be able to progress in his treatment, but to force it could break him even further. He started crying and leant his head against hers. _

_"Are you an Angel?" It was so quiet and hidden between sobs that she almost missed it. She felt a gun being jabbed into her back and gritted her teeth. The ignorant fools could not see how close Jimmy was to letting her in._

_"No, but I want to help you," he lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. "I have to go now Jimmy, will you let me help you?" She needed him to say yes. She couldn't handle another day of this without knowing he wanted help, that there was still enough human left in him to realise he needed help._

_"Yes." The soft Irish voice gave her hope. Her soul lifted and her spirit was renewed. She would find him and piece him back together, even if she didn't like what she found. Another jab reminded her that she had to leave. She quickly placed another small kiss on his head and left him crying in the dark._

_**Review my doves! Reviews make my world go round.**_

_**Blackvelvet97**_

_**Xx**_


	4. Coffee, flirting and bullets

**Hello there! Thanks to C0ldSteel, Becks93, and JJman for the reviews! (Can we say just until I get around to editing that Mycroft has a severe blocked nose? :D) Sorry for the long time between posts but I got bogged down in work. (All good now though!)**

**Hope you enjoy the next chapter-it took a rather sharp turn in the opposite direction to where I originally planned. But hey, that's the human brain for ya! Enjoy!**

Coffee. Lori needed coffee. If there was a coffee God that could spontaneously bless people with steaming hot cups of liquid gold she would frequently pay homage. Maybe she would even consider getting up early on a Sunday for sed being. It would have to be damn good coffee though.

She weaved her way through the rush hour foot traffic and checked her watch. God dammit it was already quarter past two. It would take her at least half an hour to get to the warehouse and that was in ideal conditions. She dithered whether to sate her craving or not. Her favourite little coffee shop was just around the corner, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the bustling city centre but the hot drinks were divine. She dodged around another angry citizen still undecided.

Everyone seemed to be keeping to one side of the pavement, was there some sort of one way system in place? She sighed and gritted her teeth. Well sod that, she had places to be, psychopaths to treat, possible coffee to buy. Lori slipped out of the slow moving stream and picked up her pace. Unfortunately something large and fast had the same idea. She collided head on with the strange blur.

"Excuse me, careful where you walk Mister!" She brushed herself down and looked up at the living brick wall.

Oh shite.

Double shite.

Triple Mega Shite.

Before her stood the single thing that could actually possibly get her sacked. He swept a bored glance over her and let out a short sigh. She opened her mouth but found words evaded her. The man was just as depicted in his pictures, curly black hair, piercing blue eyes, even through the surveillance images she could feel the arrogance, and now standing in front of him it just seemed to roll of the man in waves. His eyes narrowed at her guppy impression.

Sherlock bloody Holmes. The guy who could tell all your dirty secrets in a single look was assessing her. Fuck.

Lori panicked, what the hell was she supposed to do? If she annoyed Mycroft now then she had nowhere to go. She would be kicked out of the flat and then what would she do? Mycroft was her career. He was her only friend. Jimmy demanded so much attention. Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Think about something different. He's a bloody mind reader.

Fortunately a small man in a tan coat and woollen jumper rescued her. He was vaguely familiar.

"I'm so sorry about him. Sherlock doesn't pay attention when he's on a case, he didn't mean to be rude," he paused and shot an annoyed glare at the younger Mr Holmes. Sherlock's eyes remained trained on Lori, not even attempting to unearth the lie. She knew a lot about the nature of the detective, despite his frequent exclamations to the contrary Mycroft was really incredibly proud of him; even if he was a sociopathic arrogant fool. His words, not Lori's. And with this knowledge she knew Sherlock couldn't care less if he was rude, in fact he would probably go out of his way to irritate. She gave the smaller man a sceptical look.

After a moment's consideration the he nodded. "Actually he's like this all the time." Lori did a quick once over while he spoke; exemplary posture, gun in the back left pocket of his jeans, clean crew cut. Military. Able bodied but not off fighting some unholy war? Injured in combat, probably psychosomatic as seemed perfectly fluid in movement. He seemed like the perfect companion for the detective. He could fight, was calm and collected in life threatening situations and had good people skills; after all she had all but visibly melted with his easy going stance. The soldier gave her a half smile and a weary sigh. The corner of Lori's mouth lifted slightly and her brain regained control of her tongue.

"It's fine. I just hope I didn't break him, poor stick of a man." Oh bugger. She'd gone and done it now. Snarky comments and teasing were commonplace when she and Mycroft shared afternoon tea. The Holmes boys must have more similarities than she thought if the inappropriate teasing was already springing forth from her mouth. She should just leave. She could run away, the coffee shop was only around the corner. Mycroft would kill her if she got involved. It was rule one for Christ's sake.

The man's hearty chuckle broke her reverie.

"Don't worry I'm a doctor, besides the git could do with someone knocking some manners into him. John Watson." He stuck out his hand and she found herself shaking it. Strong grip, either confident in himself or feels the need to affirm his masculinity. Though a Army Doctor would imply a certain amount of humility, not seeking glory or fame, merely to save lives. She smiled warmly, Lori had no orders over association with this Dr Watson.

"Lori Davidson" she smiled and fluttered her lashes. He grinned back at her as Sherlock shook his head, disgust plainly evident. At least he was no longer evaluating her.

"Beautiful name." Lori was shocked to find herself blushing. John noticed and smiled again. Their handshake was continuing much longer than strictly necessary, both parties almost totally ignoring Sherlock's glares. Man, Watson was pretty cute. His face was warm and forgiving, it seemed a shame Mycroft would most likely forbid her from seeing him again.

Sherlock spoke suddenly. "Stop your flirting John, your brain function is limited enough without the distraction of a pretty lady." He sneered the last two words as if Lori had offended him somehow. She probably had simply by breathing, then again, annoying a Holmes was a skill she had acquired sometime after her first breakthrough with Jimmy. Oh bugger. She relinquished John's hand and checked her watch.

"I'm sorry John, but I'm going to have to leave you with him. I'm late for work." She just caught the look shared between the two men, Holmes looked perfectly at ease and John looked angry. Poor guy. He turned back to her and his expression softened. He let out a small sigh, obviously disappointed at her departure. Maybe he thought Sherlock had upset her? That was funny in itself.

"Nah it's okay, oh wait," John rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down and gave it to her smiling again. She took it and grinned back. "You know, just in case you get pushed to the floor again and need a Doctor." He finished with a shrug of his shoulders, Sherlock shook his head and grabbed his arm.

"Cheesy much?" she called as he got dragged away by the detective.

"I do my best" he smirked again. Lori shook her head and shoved the number in her pocket. She watched until both men disappeared into the crowd before turning and walking herself. She checked her watch again, and sped up a little.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He leaned back into the seat and twisted in the chains. Lori was late. WHY WAS SHE LATE? She was never late. Ever.

Jim's eyes darkened. This was boring, how could he pretend to be broken if no one was here to appreciate the performance. His little Angel had failed him. She had looked so promising, maybe even made him feel like someone actually cared. But no, she was late and she had broken her promise. He was bored of it.

He twitched his foot and watched how all the guards in the room primed their weapons. This used to fun. Even locked up they feared him, not a single person understood the genius of this. Only her, only she had made any progress at all. He had chosen to talk to her, a large oversight on his part but she made him so...

...warm?

Total madness was not all it was cracked up to be. Moriarty mused over the past few weeks. Perhaps he had sunk a little too far into his role. Jimmy was insanity without the ingenuity of his mind. He had let the soldiers hurt him, they went too far. He saw now his need for her had been real. But today the game was back on. Today James Moriarty would 'escape' the warehouse. Today, Jim's plans advanced.

Sherlock wasn't going to know what hit him.

But first he wanted Lori to explain why she was late. If she wouldn't come to him, he'd go to her. Jim nodded at one of the guards. Instantaneously there was gunfire and screaming. Blood splattered the walls as each guard was shot through the head by his favourite sniper. The three men who had tormented Jim were merely shot through the shoulder though. He smiled, Sebby knew him so well.

The tall blond guard soon had the whole room under control, all prison guards either dead or dying. He stepped over two dead bodies and began rummaging around the head guards vest. Jim watched with disinterest. He did not want Lori walking in now before the scene had been set. That just wouldn't do. He cleared his throat.

"I know Boss. But seeing as I just took out a room of highly trained operatives for you without getting us killed, could you have a little patience?" Jim raised his eyebrows. Well it seemed Sebastian had forgotten his place.

"Child's plaaaaay. Unless of course it was beyond your skill set, in which case I'll just have to find another sniper. Do I have to get rid of you Moran?" His tone switched from sing song to death cold in seconds. The blond man gulped. Moriarty quelled a smirk, yup he had forgotten who he was dealing with. His expression was stony as Seb released him.

"Sorry Boss. No, I'm quite happy with my job." Happy? Had Moran also forgotten how to speak to him? He stood up and cracked his neck, stretching.

"I don't pay you to be happy. Any other requests before your resignation Sebby boy?" Moran shook his head and rolled his eyes. One of these days Jim would lose his temper and actually kill the man. For now Sebastian had his uses and the bastard knew it.

He wandered over to the man who had hit him in front of Lori, relishing the movement of his limbs once more. The exact moment of transition from Jimmy to Jim was blurry, he remembered Lori taking hold of his hand and offering him some Galaxy chocolate. Moriarty was a Cadburys man and the mere offering seemed below him. Who even liked that shit? He had refused, much to her confusion. It was the first time he'd ever refused her. In that second he saw her not as his saviour, but an idiot. Everyone had always been idiots to Jim, even Sherlock.

She saw it too, the disappointment and disgust in his expression. Just as he saw the instant recoil in her eyes, the care replaced with a sliver of fear, just a hint. He almost gave the signal then. The Game had been caught out, his act wore thin. But she hadn't said anything. Little Lori continued to play. What a surprise that had been. It made him stop and consider letting her live. He didn't feel like considering now.

Jim stood over the panting dead man and crouched down.

"Hey sweetie, remember this?" His soft Irish tones had never seemed more menacing. He came in very close and listened to his whimpered breaths. He reared up suddenly and punched him hard in the shoulder. Blood swelled out of the bullet hole and the man screamed. Moriarty slapped the cretin across the face to silence him. He pounced on the guard, straddling him as he landed blow after blow. The screaming got louder when his fist impacted with the man's nose. The delightful crunch of bone and bristle made Jim's efforts more frenzied. His knuckles began to ache with the pressure of it. It hurt but everything hurt.

Jim stopped and looked at his bloodied hands. The man's shrieking was making it impossible to think. He could feel Moran's eyes on him. If the sniper got involved right now Jim would kill him. Painfully. This was his kill. The soldier could go fuck off for all he cared. There was a dull thud and something heavy landed next to Jim's thigh. The mouth restraint. He grinned maliciously and made a mental note never to doubt Sebby again.

He didn't need to force the guard's mouth open so he used it to his advantage, shoving the punishing restraint as far down his throat as possible. He spluttered and coughed but it made no difference. Moriarty admired his masterpiece. The man's face was turning a delicious deep purple already, swelling like a balloon. With the restraint in his mouth he looked like a Christmas roast pig. He ought to continue the torment before the weakling lost consciousness. He leant forward and grinned as a spectacular thought meandered through his mind.

"This will only hurt a little..." he pretended to think for a moment, "No, I'm lying. It's going to hurt a lot." He sang at the man and pushed his finger through the bullet hole. The guard paled and cried out a muffled plea for mercy, but with the mouth guard in place it could have just been another moan. Moriarty wiggled his finger whilst kneeling on the man's arms. The body beneath him started convulsing with the level of pain. He watched in glee as the muffled screaming turned to tortured whimpers and then silence.

Moriarty stood up slowly enjoying the feel of his fingers slick with blood. He turned to the next quivering bully and strode towards him.

This was going to be fun.

**...did you see that coming? I didn't. **

**Drop me a review and I will do my best to explain the twistyness in the next chapter! **

**Blackvelvet97**

**Xx**


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